


A Series of Unfortunate Events

by pir8grl



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pir8grl/pseuds/pir8grl
Summary: This is based off a Tumblr post from onthedriftinthetardis.  The post was titled “Worst Fanfic Prompts.”  Being, well…me…I strung them together as the skeleton for a fic.  Then I thought about it for a while and…here you go!  Thank you to the always-awesome Jael for checking that this was fit for human consumption!*Quarantine and plague are used as plot devices.
Relationships: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart
Comments: 36
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**There Were So Many Beds**  
Sara Lance punched her pillow irritably. It wasn’t that it was a crummy one—quite the opposite, in fact. She was currently in a lovely 4-star hotel suite with wonderful down pillows. Trust Leonard Snart to choose only the finest accommodations, after all. Even if said accommodations were currently vacant except for them, due to the plague that had ripped through the area, decimating the population. 

The reason for her sleeplessness was the crook himself—the crook who was just down the hallway, in another suite. There was a time when they would have holed up in the same room, quarantine be damned. That was a time before…well, a lot of things. 

For years, Sara had dreamed that somehow she’d find him again. After all, she’d tossed out the word “impossible” a long time ago. But in true Legends fashion, the reality had turned out to be, well…somewhat of a clusterfuck. Leonard hadn’t been found by Sara or Mick, but rather by Ava and a couple of the newbies, who had no idea who he was. Of course, the first records Ava had unearthed were of the criminal persuasion, and she’d reacted accordingly. 

The result was a tidal wave of anger and hurt feelings. Sara was angry because of the way Ava treated Snart. Ava was angry and hurt that Sara had never told her how much the former crook meant to her. Snart was angry at his treatment, and though he tried very hard not to show it, hurt that Sara apparently hadn’t even talked about him while he was…away. 

And now they were here in a lovely hotel, waiting ten days to be sure neither of them was sick. The few yards of corridor between their rooms felt like a million miles to Sara. 

**Long-Distance Relationship**  
Sara’s phone beeped with a text from Leonard. 

“Package outside your door.”

She frowned, really and truly hoping that he hadn’t gone out. If he encountered anyone, he might be infected. As if he could read her mind, the phone beeped again. 

“No, I didn’t go outside. Just down to the lobby shop.”

Curious, Sara padded over to the door to find a shopping bag just outside. She glanced down the hall hopefully, but Leonard’s door was shut. With a small huff of disappointment, she pulled the bag inside and locked her own door. 

She sat down cross-legged on the floor and upended the bag. There were a few bottles of Evian and a big box of Godivas (this place was way too swanky for vending machines), some T-shirts with designer pretensions, a couple of paperback adventure novels, and…a deck of cards. Grinning, she reached for her phone. 

“Yes, Captain?” Snart answered coolly. 

Sara’s smile disappeared. She supposed she deserved that. She tried to keep her tone light, just the same. They were, after all, well and truly dependent on one another right now. 

“Thanks for the stuff. Really. It’s great.” 

“You’re welcome. And let me reassure you—again—that I did not leave the premises. I did not chance encountering anyone else.” 

“Leonard…” 

“Wouldn’t want to delay your reunion, after all.” 

“OK, you know what? I’m getting really tired of this. I apologized, all right? I got you released. You’re back on the team. Can you please just…”

“Just what?” 

Now Sara had to fight to keep her voice level. “Stop treating me like a stranger,” she finally whispered. 

“But that’s what I am. I don’t care that you found someone else after a couple of years. But if I meant anything to you, how come you never talked about me? How come she had no idea at all that I was even part of the team?” 

The call disconnected. 

**Lovers to Friends**  
The check-ins continued, as did care packages left outside the door and terse thank-you texts. For all their lack of verbal communication, the goodie bags showed Leonard’s careful eye for details—clothing in the perfect size and novels he knew would appeal to her taste.

Sara’s phone buzzed and she pounced on it immediately. 

“Leonard! Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine. You?” 

“I’m good. No symptoms.” A pause. “It’s…really good to hear your voice.” 

A longer pause. Then… “Likewise. Look, I think I’ve about exhausted the possibilities of the hotel lobby. We need to get some decent food into us. If we get dehydrated or weak from low blood sugar, we’re more susceptible.” 

“Agreed. What do you have in mind?” 

“I want to raid the kitchen, but it’s on the ground floor, and there’ll be noise when I start up the equipment. I could use someone to watch my back.”

“On my way. And Leonard?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you still trust me.” 

“I never stopped.”  
***  
Sara and Leonard agreed that an industrial-sized pan of chicken cutlets, divided between their two minifridges, ought to last them a few days. While they were baking, the crook and the assassin perused the rest of the offerings. Anything fresh had long since spoiled, but they found some frozen dinner rolls and added them to the oven. Sara thoughtfully added a few bottles nicked from the restaurant stockroom. They were easier with one another after their foray to the kitchen. Almost back to the way they used to be. 

**Too Hot For Sex**  
Sara blearily became aware that her phone was making a very annoying noise. Several of them, in fact. She rolled over and fumbled around, getting the phone on the second or third pass. A line of texts appeared. 

“Just checking in.” 

“Look, I know the bathtub is amazing, but you only need to dry off one hand for 30 seconds to hit reply.”

“Sara? Reply, please.” 

“I mean it, Lance, sound off, or I’m coming down there.” 

Dimly, Sara became aware that she could hear Leonard’s voice. Right. Phone. They could talk. 

“Lenny!” she said brightly. 

“Sara? Are you drunk?” 

“Um…I don’t think so. That’s a good idea, though. Thirsty.” 

“Are you OK?” Leonard asked sharply. 

Sara giggled. Sara **_never_** giggled. 

“’M fine. Just hot. Like, really hot. Too hot for sex.” 

“OK. Stay right where you are. I’m coming to you.” 

“But…you don’t even like me.” 

Leonard’s sigh was clearly audible through the phone. “Of course I do.”  
***  
Leonard grabbed the bag of supplies they’d filched from a pharmacy and headed down the hall to Sara’s room, grateful he’d insisted they have duplicate keys. He was terrified of what he’d find. Sure, she might just be hung over (and that’s what he was unabashedly praying for, to anyone who might be listening). She might just have some random bug. Or…

He tried very, very hard to cut off that line of reasoning. There was no hospital he could get her to. It was up to him, with just the most rudimentary field medic’s training and a bag of random stuff from Walgreens. He opened the door. 

Sara was tangled in the bedclothes, flushed and glassy-eyed. Leonard exhaled softly and shut the door behind him. 

“You can hang up the phone now. I’m here.” 

Sara gave him a puzzled look, so he just stepped forward and gently took the phone from her hand. He reached out to lay a hand on her forehead. 

“No!” she mumbled, shying away. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” 

“Sara, you’re sick.”

“Len, get out—”

“No. You’re not going to leave me alone. Not again.” 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, all business. 

“Now, I’m pretty sure you’ve got a fever, but let’s see if we can get a better idea.” 

He ripped open the packaging on a thermometer and fiddled with the buttons. 

“Open wide.” 

Sara glared, but did as she was told. It only took a few seconds for the thing to beep. Leonard retrieved the thermometer and studied the results. 

“Yeah…definitely a fever.” 

“You have to get away from me.” 

Fear was making Sara lucid. 

“No,” he replied flatly. “Whatever you’ve got, we’ve both been exposed. And it could be lots of things.” 

“In the middle of…this?” Sara said, waving one hand around vaguely. 

“Yeah. Even in the middle of this. There’s no way to know what exactly you’ve got, so we’ll work with what we do know. You’ve got a fever and that’s never good, so we have to get your temperature down.” 

He rummaged in the bag and came up with a bottle of pills. 

“Come on, let’s get you up.” 

He guided Sara to sit up, then set a couple of pillows behind her back. He shook out a couple of pills into his hand and gave them to her. 

“Here. Hold these while I get you some—”

She dry-swallowed the pills. Leonard gave her a long-suffering look. 

“You need to stay hydrated.” 

He got up to rummage in her minifridge, finally coming up with a bottle of a sports drink. He handed it to Sara, then went to the bathroom and wet a facecloth. He wiped down her face and neck, then folded it over and set it on her forehead.

“How’d you get so good at this?” Sara wondered. 

“Who do you think took care of Lisa when we were growing up? Look, I’m going to grab the rest of my stuff and bring it in here. Stay put.” 

Sara nodded, which was worrisome. She was never one for sitting still, unless she was unconscious. Her voice stopped him at the door. 

“Len? Thank you.”  
***  
An indeterminate amount of time passed in a haze for Sara. She vaguely recalled being propped up to take meds and have drinks lifted to her lips. She also had a vague recollection of being fed like a baby bird. And then she felt herself being lifted from the bed. Part of her wanted to struggle, but she was so tired, and Leonard’s voice was a soothing rumble under her ear. And then he was lowering them both into a tub of cool water and she really did struggle…with all the effectiveness of a newborn kitten. 

“Shh…shh…I know this sucks, Sara, but I need to cool you down and there’s no other way. Please don’t kill me,” he added, easily avoiding a flailing hand. 

He held her propped firmly against his chest. 

“You don’t even like…people…close,” Sara murmured. 

“I like some people just fine.”  
***  
A long while later, Sara awoke tucked into a cozy cocoon of blankets. Leonard was sitting up beside her, reading.

“Len?” she muttered, voice rusty with disuse. 

“Look who decided to rejoin the human race,” he drawled. 

Sara noted that…she hadn’t heard the drawl the entire time she’d been sick. 

“Is there anything left to drink?” 

He reached over to the nightstand. 

“Thermometer first.” 

She pouted but let him slip it into her mouth. 

“Almost normal,” he pronounced when it beeped. 

“Hah! First time anyone’s ever said that about me,” Sara quipped. 

“There’s my assassin. How about some excellent jarred fruit cocktail?” 

“Where’d that come from?” Sara wondered. 

“Found it while you were raiding the liquor supply.”

“Gotta have priorities.” 

“Indeed. My priority now is getting you strong enough for us to hike out of here.” 

“We have to walk the whole way?” Sara said, uneasily recalling needing Len’s arm just to get to the damn bathroom. 

“Well, if I recall, you have a certain talent for hotwiring cars.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Sara replied, with a genuine, bright grin for Leonard. 

**Funeral Home Meet-Cute**  
It was a few more days before Sara felt strong enough to start hiking out of the hot zone—and fend off anyone they might encounter along the way. They loaded up the hotel’s courtesy van with whatever shelf-stable food and drink they could get their hands on and headed out. 

“How long do you think it’ll take us to get in range of the Waverider?” Sara wondered. 

“Not soon enough for me,” Leonard said fervently. “I want to have Gideon give you—”

“Us,” Sara interjected. 

“—a thorough scan.” 

“Do you think it was this new plague-thing that I had?”

“I don’t know, but it was a helluva bad fever. You scared me.” 

“I think I scared myself,” Sara admitted. “Thanks for taking care of me.” 

“Yeah, well…I wouldn’t want to get in any more trouble with your—with Ava,” he corrected himself. 

“I don’t think that’s something I have to worry about anymore,” Sara said softly. 

“Don’t mess up a good thing because of me.” 

“That’s just it. It’s not a good thing, not really. Ava wants different things from life than I do. I can’t…I can’t just change myself to suit someone else. It just doesn’t work.” 

Len kept his eyes firmly on the road, but his mouth curved in a small smile.  
***  
It was a couple of days before they were able to reach the Waverider on the comms. Gideon promptly dispatched the jumpship to collect them. She brough them directly back to the ship for scanning and decontamination. 

“Where are the others?” Sara demanded when they were finally released from medbay. 

“Ah,” the AI sounded sheepish, if such a thing was even possible. “They are at Dr. Heywood’s family home…for your funeral. When we lost contact with you and your last known location was a plague hotspot, well…I’m afraid you were presumed dead.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Sara muttered. “Alright…who can you get on comms?”

“Who won’t completely freak out,” Snart added. 

“How about John?” Sara suggested. 

Snart just raised an eyebrow at that. A moment later, John Constantine’s voice sounded across the bridge. 

“Sara, love! Is that really you?” 

“Really me,” Sara assured him. 

“Us,” Snart corrected. 

“An’ you’ve got all your moving parts? No need for me to go traipsing around the underworld to put you back together?” 

“All present and accounted for. Do you think you could put Ava on?” 

“Ah, well, you see, love, she’s got rather attached to the funeral director, as it happens. Quite a nice lass, if you like ‘em prim and proper.” 

“That um…that sounds like a good match for her. Don’t disturb them, I guess, but if you could let the others know?” 

“Calmly,” Leonard suggested. 

“Hey, you lot! Sara and her lad ain’t dead!” Constantine bellowed. 

“Told ya!” they heard Mick rumble. 

Snart winced. 

“I don’t know about you,” Sara said, grinning, “but I could really use a drink.” 

“Excellent idea.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, Jay...you wanted a bit more!

**Well, That Was Humiliating**

“That was fun,” Len drawled, tone indicating that it had been anything but. “Let’s not ever do it again.” 

Sara shrugged. “I’ve had three funerals.”

“Please don’t remind me.” 

“At least this one had booze.” 

“Sara. Please.” 

Two words. No trace of snark. Sara stopped and looked at him. There was something in his eyes…something she suspected very few people ever got to see. 

“Look, I’m fine,” she insisted.

“You are not ‘fine,’ Captain,” Gideon interrupted. “You are recovering. An effort that would be tremendously improved by rest and proper nutrition.” 

“I ate at the funeral!” Sara protested. 

“Booze don’t count,” Snart replied. 

“Since when?” Sara snarked back wearily. 

“Since I almost lost you!”

Miraculously, none of the others seemed to be in earshot. 

“Look…we got nowhere to be right now. Will you please just get off your feet and let me bring you something to eat?”

“Something containing actual protein,” Gideon added. 

“Not helping,” Snart muttered in the general direction of the ceiling. 

***

Snart wasn’t surprised to see Sara seated at her desk cleaning weapons. 

“You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“What? I’m sitting. What’s for dinner?” she asked, eyeing the tray of covered food dishes and tumblers he was carrying.

In reply, Snart lobbed a soft bag at her. Sara rummaged, then just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Bed, then dinner,” he told her firmly.

“Kinky.” 

“Ha. Ha, ha, ha. Go change.”

Sara grumbled something under her breath that it was probably just as well he didn’t understand, but she did lever herself upright and head for her ensuite. She was doing an excellent job of projecting her best badass captain persona, but Snart’s eyes caught the slight hesitation in her movements, and the fine lines on her face. He was completely unrepentant about his actions, even as he heard a not-so-muffled curse from behind the closed bathroom door. He grinned, even though she couldn’t see. 

“I knew you wouldn’t get into that bed unless I put you there, so I asked Gideon to make you comfy pajamas so you’d stay put and rest. I also asked her to make them embarrassing enough that you wouldn’t leave the room,” he added. “Big brother, remember? I know all the tricks.” 

“Big brother, hmmm?” 

“Get yourself well and maybe we’ll discuss something else.” 

The door opened, and Snart turned from setting out Sara’s food on the bedside table. It took all of his considerable talent to smother a grin at the sight of the assassin’s sleepshirt and fuzzy socks. He suspected he wasn’t entirely successful.

“Frozen? Seriously?” 

“Are you comfortable?” 

She nodded. 

“Are you at all likely to charge out to the bridge dressed like that?” 

“Oh, _**hell**_ no.” 

“Then my diabolical plan is a success. As usual. Now get over here.” 

She grumbled the entire time he was tucking her into bed and setting a tray on her lap. Her eyes lit up at the bacon cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate shake. 

“Way to worry about my figure, Crook,” she griped, mostly just for the sake of griping. 

“Your figure’s just fine Assassin. Gideon said protein. Meat, cheese, milk. Protein. And if Gideon decided to sneak in some vitamins and stuff, well, who am I to argue? Now eat up.” 

***

Sara studied her cards in silence. Snart had dragged a chair over beside the bed and was curled into it in a boneless sort of pose only a cat would envy. He peered at her over the top of his own cards. 

“You wanna take a break?” he suggested quietly. 

“Hmm?” 

“You zoned out a little. You’re supposed to be resting, so if you want a nap, just go for it. Look, I promise—if there’s anything really urgent, I’ll wake you. Crook’s honor.” 

“I really should get up.” 

“You really shouldn’t.” 

“I’m lounging in bed in kiddie pajamas—”

“You’re recuperating from a close encounter with a virus that killed how many people? Stay. Put. Even heroes are allowed time to recover.” 

“I am not a hero.” 

“Well, I’m hardly an expert in the field, but most people tend to agree that running into a burning building to save a kid makes you a hero.”

“One moment doesn’t validate the rest of my mess,” Sara murmured. “My record speaks for itself.” 

“It does,” Snart agreed. “I’ve read it. Even at your worst—your very worst—before your buddy in the trench coat managed to put your _**soul**_ back where it belongs, one of your most basic instincts was to protect other women. Look, Sara…you were never meant to be a nine-to-five, load-the-dishwasher, pay-the-bills sort of person. That’s not you.” 

“I’m not…I can’t…” She shook her head helplessly. “I’m stubborn and set in my ways. I have messed up _**so**_ many times.” 

“You’ve saved the whole goddamn world, Sara. No matter how bad the bad guy or how impossible the situation, you find a way through. That’s what matters. That’s who you are. Anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve you.”

Sara blinked. Then her eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Are you sure we got the right Leonard Snart back? Because that kind of motivational speech sounds more like something Leo would say.” 

“I read about him. What? I had a lot of catching up to do. Now, he sounds like a nice enough guy, but is he one hell of a thief?” 

“Are you?” 

“I think you know I am.” 

Sara leaned back into her pillows with a grin that might best be described as ‘sinful.’ 

“Prove it.”


End file.
